Chapter 13: Training Grounds
Morning mist clung to the fields outside Elden Hollow when the first group gathered on the flattened patch of earth we had cleared for training. The air carried the sharp scent of dew on grass and woodsmoke from early cookfires. Twenty villagers stood in loose rows: farmers with callused hands, young guards still growing into their leather, a few older hunters leaning on spears. Torv had spread word the night before, and more had come than expected. They watched me with a mix of curiosity and caution, eyes flicking often to Shadowmane sitting calmly at my side.
Lira stood beside me with her bow unstrung across her back, ready to demonstrate ranged work later. Mira observed from the edge of the ground, arms folded, braid catching the rising golden light. No one spoke until I stepped forward.
"We start simple," I said, voice carrying across the quiet. "Footwork. Balance. Awareness. You fight what you can handle, not what you wish you could." I nodded to Torv. "Pair them up. We'll run drills."
Torv barked orders, and the group split into partners. I walked among them, correcting stances, showing how small shifts in weight changed reach and stability. Basic Observation and Leadership guided me; I saw openings before they formed, felt where confidence lagged. Shadowmane padded silently between rows, a living reminder that threats could come larger than men.
First hour focused on movement. Side steps, pivots, quick retreats. Sweat beaded quickly despite the cool air. A young farmer named Bren overextended on a lunge and stumbled; I caught his arm, steadied him, showed the shorter step that kept balance. He nodded gratefully and tried again.
Lira took the archers aside: six villagers with simple recurves or hunting bows. She demonstrated draw, anchor, release in one fluid motion, then walked them through dry fires until arms trembled. Her Ranger precision made corrections gentle but firm.
Mid-morning brought weapons. I borrowed a wooden practice sword from the smith and faced Torv first for demonstration. We moved slow at the start, blades clacking as I showed blocks, parries, ripostes. Then faster. The villagers watched intently as steel rang and feet scraped dirt. Torv grinned when I slipped past his guard and tapped his chest lightly.
"See the opening?" I called. "He committed too far. Small step back creates it."
Pairs took up wooden blades next. Thuds and grunts filled the air. I moved constantly, adjusting grips, reminding knees to bend, elbows to stay in. One older hunter adapted quickly; his spear work translated well to reach and timing. A teenage girl struggled with weight until I shortened her stance and lightened her grip. Improvement came in small bursts, visible in straighter backs and sharper eyes.
Shadowmane helped too. On my command he circled pairs, growling low when someone left their back exposed. Villagers learned fast not to turn away from multiple threats. The beast never touched anyone, but his presence sharpened focus like nothing else. By noon the group panted and soaked with sweat. We broke for water and bread. Villagers sat in loose circles, talking quietly about what they had felt work. Mira approached with a waterskin and nodded approval.
"They're listening," she said. "More than I expected."
"They want to live," I replied. "That's motivation enough."
Afternoon shifted to mixed drills. Archers covered advancing melee pairs while Shadowmane and I played the enemy. We moved unpredictably: sudden charges, feints, circling flanks. Lira called targets and corrections from the side. Arrows thudded into straw dummies we had set up. Melee groups learned to shield archers, to watch sight lines, to listen for commands.
Bren took an accidental elbow to the nose during one rush and bled steadily. I knelt, pressed cloth to it, and guided his breathing until it slowed. Basic Field Dressing flowed instinctively now; swelling eased under my touch. He blinked in surprise when the pain dulled.
"Null magic?" he asked quietly.
"Just what I've earned," I said. "Keep learning and you'll earn your own."
He nodded fiercely and returned to his pair.
Late afternoon brought live steel under careful watch. Real blades against wooden shields. I faced three at once to show positioning: keep one between you and the others, force them to bunch, strike the gap. Torv joined me against five. We moved in tandem, blades flashing, driving them back step by step. No one took serious injury; bruises and nicks only.
When the golden light slanted long across the field, we stopped. The group stood straighter than morning, faces flushed but eyes bright. Torv called them to order.
"Good work," he said gruffly. "Same time tomorrow. Bring water and thicker skin."
They dispersed with tired laughter and mutual claps on shoulders. A few lingered to ask questions. The teenage girl practiced footwork alone until her mother called her home.
Mira approached again as we packed gear. "Riders returned from Greenhollow and Ridgevale. Both villages want alliance. They'll send fighters to train here in three days."
Lira slung her bow. "Word travels fast."
"Warning and hope both do," Mira said. "Your cleansing of the apex reached them already. They want to learn."
I nodded. "We'll need bigger grounds soon."
"Already clearing the west field," she replied. "Smith's working double shifts on arrowheads."
Evening brought quiet to the small house. Lira and I ate stew with fresh bread while Shadowmane gnawed a massive bone by the door. Fire crackled low. Outside, the village settled into watchful routines: extra guards on walls, lanterns burning brighter.
Lira leaned back against the wall. "They're coming together fast. Found family growing."
I poked the fire. "Necessity speeds it."
She studied me across the flames. "You taught well today. Leadership skill helping?"
"Feels natural now," I said. "Seeing where people need push or pull."
Text flickered quietly:
Deed recorded: Skills and survival taught to settlement without demand of payment.
Skill progressed: Basic Leadership (to Adept).
Skill unlocked: Basic Tactics (Passive).
Reputation spread: Neighboring villages (Interested).
Lira read it and smiled. "System approves."
"Or just records," I said. "Either way."
Night deepened. We took the wall walk with Torv again. Stars wheeled clear and cold. Wind carried distant howls, but none close.
Torv stopped at the western gate. "Scouts saw tracks today. Horned cats avoiding the tower completely now. Shadowmane's scent keeps them east."
"Good," I said. "Saves lives."
He grunted agreement, then lowered his voice. "Garret talked more. Says Eclipse Blades plans raid on a small village soon. Testing strength. Not us yet."
Lira tensed. "Which one?"
"Willowford. Small. Weak walls."
I exchanged glances with her. "We ride at dawn?"
Mira had joined us silently. "Already planned. Twenty riders. You lead. Take the prisoner if you want fresh information on the way."
I nodded. "We leave early."
Back in the house, gear waited: new leather jerkin from the smith, reinforced with boiled hide. Short sword sharp and balanced. Knives oiled. Lira checked arrows by lamplight. Shadowmane watched the door.
Sleep came quick but light. Dreams carried echoes of steel on steel and villagers standing taller.
Dawn broke cool and clear. Twenty riders gathered at the gate: Torv, Lira, me, Shadowmane, and volunteers hardened by yesterday's training. Garret rode bound in the center, face sullen under guard. Mira saw us off with a raised fist.
"Bring them warning," she said. "Bring back alliance if you can."
Hooves thundered on the east road. Forest swallowed us quickly. Shadowmane ranged ahead, nose low, bond humming alert.
Two days to Willowford. Time enough to plan.
Deeds waited beyond the trees. Threats gathered. Alliances formed in haste. The Null Path widened again, pulling others along. And somewhere east, in a camp ringed by sharpened stakes, Captain Voren sharpened his own blades. The Game accelerated. We rode toward the next choice.
*****
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